


Groundhogs in Sweaters

by JessJesstheBest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beta'd by people I don't deserve, Canon verse, Crack, M/M, Profound Bond Gift Exchange, fairytales - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessJesstheBest/pseuds/JessJesstheBest
Summary: “You ever think about what our lives would be like if the monsters looked like how they were supposed to?”Or Dean muses over what life could be like and Cas is too cute for words about it





	Groundhogs in Sweaters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unholywine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholywine/gifts).



> Written for the PB Gift Exchange!  
> This one's for Floor.
> 
> It's complete crack and probably a lot softer than you wanted but the prompt was fairy-tales what do you want from me???

“You ever think about what our lives would be like if the monsters looked like how they were supposed to?”

Sam frowned, marking his place with his finger before lifting his attention from the book he was reading. “What do you mean?”

“Like fairytales,” Dean continued. “The monsters in fairytales are never like how they are in real life. Wouldn’t it be cool if they were?”

Sam’s mouth twitched, his elbow coming up to the table so he could lean closer to Dean. “Like what?”

“Dragons, for one.” Dean snorted, petulantly. “They just looked like people! Garbage. I want a big fuckin lizard. With wings! He could be my new steed.”

Sam snorted back. “I’m telling the impala.”

“Don’t you dare!” but Dean was still smiling, delighted by this exercise he’d started. “Witches, too. Screw spells that need ingredients and body fluids.” Dean shuddered. “Why can’t there be magic wands? Wands are way cooler than bones of saints and all that shit.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “And you called me ‘Dumbledork’?”

“It’s just more sanitary, Samantha!” Dean threw a napkin at him, kind of ruining his point about cleanliness. “And people would probably not get as dead.”

Sam shrugged, allowing the point. “Sure. There’s always gonna be bad beings who want to hurt people, though, Dean.”

Dean grimaced, throwing another napkin at Sam. “Whatever. At least if I had real genies instead of frickin djinn, I might get real wishes. And Robin Williams is awesome.”

Sam barked a laugh. “Interesting you’d go for  _ Aladdin _ over  _ I Dream of Jeannie. _ ”

Dean lifted up his hands in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way. “Listen: Barbara Eden was hot in her day and I’ll catch a rerun when it’s on. But Robin Williams is forever.”

Sam laughed again in what Dean took as agreement.

“We deserve some freaking wishes by now. And a freaking dragon friend.”

Sam cleared his throat to dislodge some of the chuckles still coming out. “We have another kind of winged friend,” Sam mused. “You can try and make Cas your steed.”

Dean wasn't sure what kind of expression he made, but it must have been really something for Sam to throw his head back and laugh like that.

 

After that conversation with Sam, things got a little bit weird around the bunker.

To start with, Dean kept having to shoo mice and squirrels outside. It wasn’t super uncommon to find rodents–-they were underground and the bunker had been uninhabited for decades before the Winchesters got there. And they did mostly like to hide in dusty cleaning cabinets or disorganized storage rooms. The weird part was that the squirrels and mice and occasional rabbits Dean had to wrangle outside were all wearing tiny clothing.

Dean really should have found this more odd than he did. Truth was, he barely spared it a second thought. Yeah, animals were wearing clothes now. He’d seen weirder.

But it didn’t stop there.

There was also a lot more fruit in the bunker kitchen. This, in itself, wasn’t a huge red flag. Sam was still a health freak and the brothers had gotten better about keeping healthy food in the house for Jack now that the kid was (mostly) human.

The weird part was the food looked… inviting.

As a rule: Dean didn't eat apples unless they were baked into a pie. He thought the skin was waxy, the shape of the apple fit oddly in his mouth, and the simultaneous wetness and dryness of the fruit just made the whole eating experience very unpleasant.

(He was not wrong about these things.)

The apples in the bunker in the past few days just looked really delicious, though. Dean couldn’t explain it. So he ate them.

They weren’t  _ amazing _ as foods go – Dean would still choose a baguette over an apple as his side at Panera – but after eating them, he weirdly had more energy. It was like a full night’s sleep. But only sometimes.

If he ate an apple at night, it actually  _ helped _ him sleep. If he ate an apple at night before a hunt, he could swear his eyesight got sharper.

When he tried to tell Sam about the weird apples they’d gotten, Sam just tried to tell him that eating healthy meant you got healthier and that’s why Dean had been feeling so good.

And Dean might have believed him if it weren’t for the last thing.

Dean had just been innocently washing his face in his room.

He looked up in the mirror and winked at his reflection. “Hey, good lookin.”

“I’d tell you to ‘hey yourself’, but you literally just did.”

Dean jumped, eyes darting around.

It had sounded almost like Cas’s voice but Cas was supposed to be on a beer and pie run.

“Uh, hello?”

“Haven’t we already gone over customary greetings?”

Dean was still startled even though he was ready for it. There had definitely been a voice.

And it sounded like it was coming from the mirror.

Dean blinked at his reflection. The reflection blinked back, completely like normal.

Dean thought about waving his hand in front of it to make sure the mirror still worked, but he felt like that would be perfect ammunition for mocking if the mirror really was talking to him. So he refrained.

Instead, he said, “Uh, mirror mirror on the wall?”

“Real original, Dean.”

Yup, it was the mirror.

“Any follow up questions or do you just enjoy hearing yourself talk?”

Dean snorted and crossed his arms, a little offended. 

“Any reason you can talk now? And why you’re kind of an asshole?”

If a mirror could have lungs, Dean would have sworn it had sighed. “I’m a magic mirror. It’s kind of in the job description to be judgemental. How else could I tell ‘the fairest of them all’?”

Dean tilted his head in acceptance. “Okay. But could you always talk? Why do you sound like Cas?”

“Well your angel, Castiel, enchanted me. Don’t you think you would have known you had a talking mirror by now if this wasn’t a recent development? I feel like you talk to your reflection a lot.”

Dean shifted on his feet, scowling. “You don’t know me.”

If the mirror had eyes it would have rolled them. “Okay, Dean.”

So that just left the question of why Cas had enchanted the mirror.

“Did Cas do something to the fruit in the kitchen?” Dean asked the mirror. “And is he why I found a groundhog in a sweater in my shower yesterday?”

“Probably,” the mirror said, bored. “I can’t say for sure – I’m magic but I’m not all-knowing. All I know is that Castiel enchanted me for a reason. That reason might have also made him do weird shit like that. He’s a weird dude.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean blurted before lowering his voice. “It’s really funny to hear you roast Cas when you sound like Cas.”

“I could go back to roasting you if you think that would be more appropriate.”

“Ha, no. No, it’s okay. In fact I think I’m just gonna–” Dean pointed at his bedroom door, making a hasty retreat.

He could hear the mirror call him a coward as he left.

 

Dean walked into the war room right as Cas was closing the door to the bunker.

“Hey there, pal,” Dean said, watching amused as Cas struggled to carry his giant grocery bags down the spiral stairs. “Need some help?”

Cas glared at him, already having made it down the stairs.

Dean grinned, walking forward to relieve Cas of one arm of groceries. Cas sighed, the relief of having some of his burden lifted obvious.

“Thank you,” he said, grudgingly.

Dean just winked. “Let’s get these to the kitchen.”

Castiel hummed in agreement, turning down the hall before waiting to see if Dean was following him. Dean trailed behind, watching Cas for any strange behavior.

If the mirror was right and Cas was doing all this weird stuff around the bunker, he would be acting differently, right? At the very least he’d be watching Dean to see how Dean responded to his new mirror friend.

And, if Dean was being picky, Cas did seem a little jumpy.

Cas was more delicate in setting his bags down once they reached the kitchen. Dean dropped his heavily on the table, making the cans in the bags rattle ominously.

Cas glared at him again. “You’re lucky the eggs weren’t in there.”

Dean shrugged.

Cas rolled his eyes, before turning to pull the fridge open, moving things around to make room for their new groceries.

Dean watched him, removing things from bags and putting them on the counter in Cas’s reach.

He was trying to be unobtrusive, waiting for an opening until he could ask Cas about the mirror, but Cas was doing everything wrong.

“No, Cas, why would you put bread in the fridge? Are you trying to dry it out?”

Cas turned, already frowning at Dean. “Cold temperatures preserve food for longer.”

“But it makes it taste worse, man.” Dean snatched the bread out of his hands, putting it in his designated bread drawer next to the oven. “Don’t mess with a good thing.”

He paused, thinking that that was a good a segue as anything.

“Speaking of,” he started, turning to lean his hip on the counter, crossing his arms. He was going for casually inquisitive rather than accusatory. “Any reason my mirror gave me attitude this morning?”

Cas froze, his arm halfway to the fridge weighed down by an entire case of beer. Or it would have been weighed down if not for friggin angel strength.

He turned to Dean with wide eyes. “Your mirror was mean to you?”

Dean rolled his eyes, his mouth quirking up. Of course that was the part Cas was focusing on.

“Not  _ that _ mean, Cas. No meaner than Sam. I just meant why was it talking to me  _ at all _ ?”

Cas shrugged, moving things in the fridge around so he could fit the case in. “I thought you might like it.”

Dean just blinked, waiting for Cas to continue.

Cas sighed, his shoulders slumping. Before closing the refrigerator door and turning to Dean.

“I heard you talking to Sam. About how monsters are supposed to be versus the reality.”

Dean frowned, the conversation coming back to him. He remembered only talking about monsters. Nothing weird had happened with monsters recently.

“Obviously, there’s very little I can do about how monsters work,” Cas started, lifting up his arms in a weak presentation of his current state. “Gabriel may have been able to, once upon a time, but he’s dead and I do not have the power of an archangel.”

“Okay…” Dean said, still misty on what Cas  _ had _ done. And why.

“I still wanted to give you some fairytale things, though,” Cas said, looking sheepish for the first time. “And in my research, I’ve found fairytales have helpful wildlife. And magic fruit. And–”

“And talking mirrors.” Dean chuckled, wiping his mouth with his hand to disguise his amusement. “Were those animals supposed to be cleaning?”

Cas nodded, his shoulders slumped, sure Dean was making fun of him.

Dean reached forward, clapping him hard on the shoulder. “It’s great, buddy. Really. Very cute.”

Cas blushed. Dean didn’t even know he was capable of blushing. He grinned.

“But hey,” Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder again before pulling back and walking around to the table. “Where’s my magic makeover? Or my random musical numbers?”

Cas made a noise of discontent, glaring at Dean as he followed him to the table. “I’ve already told you I’m not powerful enough for illusions that big, Dean.”

Dean grinned, leaning over the table to get right in Cas’s face. “Well, what about a magic kiss? ‘True love’ garbage and all that.”

Cas turned red again, avoiding eye contact. “I think we both know the concept of true love’s kiss is fallible. For one, heaven’s system of love matching is largely defunct, so true love is truly subjective, and for another the practice of kissing someone when they are incapacitated – magically or otherwise – is highly–”

“Cas.” Dean was leaning even closer to Cas now, watching the panic in his eyes fade to suspicion. And then wonder. “Do I look magically incapacitated right now?”

Cas met his eyes, searching. “No…?”

“So would you say I’m fully consenting to my true love kissing me right now?”

Cas swallowed. “I–”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just kiss me, Cas. Christ.”

Cas hesitated for just a second more before leaning in, cupping Dean’s jaw in his hand, and pressing his lips on Dean’s.

After which Dean immediately turned into a frog.

_ “How the hell does that even work?!” _ Dean meant to say, but instead just ribbeted since he was, you know,  _ a frog. _

“Shit!” Cas waved his hands helplessly over Dean’s amphibious form. “I forgot about this one. I don’t think I did it right.”

_ “You think?!” _ Dean croaked.

“It’s fine, Dean. Another kiss should turn you back.”

Dean ribbited again, more out of temper than anything.

Cas picked him up, gently, and placed him on the table before leaning and and putting his lips to Dean’s pointed, froggy mouth.

Dean blinked and he was human again, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, gasping.

“What made you think  _ that _ was a good idea?!” Dean choked, putting a hand to his chest. He was a little overwhelmed by everything.

“I found a list of fairy tale tropes on the internet,” Cas said, face creased in utter humiliation. “I didn’t really think it through.”

Dean huffed a laugh as his breathing evened out. “Well, you undo the mojo on that one immediately. Because I want to kiss you again, this time without shrinking into a body covered in mucus.”

Cas’s eyes widened, like he was astonished Dean would even consider kissing him again.

Dean rolled his eyes, snapping and waving his hands in a ‘hurry up’ type motion. “Let’s go, un-mojo, I’ve been waiting years for this.”

Cas didn’t look like he did anything but Dean felt like he could feel a subtle change in the air. In any case, Cas grabbed Dean’s face with both of his hands to kiss him again and Dean did not turn into a frog.

Even without the magical shape-shifting, it was still a life-changing kiss.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Rebloggable version](http://saywhatjessie.tumblr.com/post/183809992955/groundhogs-in-sweaters)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Big ups to my betas, Maggie and captainhaterade on Discord.  
> To join us weirdos, [click here!](https://discord.gg/)


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